The Mercs Take New York
by EnderGirl
Summary: When the mercs are issued a mandatory vacation to New York...things can only go awry. Grown men try to bond, noses are broken, and hilarity ensues. Written (mostly) from Medic's POV.
1. All in a day's work

Blinding light forced his eyes open and his lungs filled with air involuntarily. Reality came rushing back to him too quickly, much too quickly, and before he knew it fire filled his throat as he emptied the contents of his stomach onto the tiled floor. His eyes quickly remembered how to see again as blotches of nothing rapidly gained shape and color. A distant, muffled noise pricked his ears and he focused on someone's face as they shoved something under his nose. The person spoke again and he was able to register words this time.

"Ya a'right there, mate? Been awhile since ya lost ya lunch like this!" A heavy Australian accent assaulted his ears, but he had no time to respond before his stomach twisted inside of him again and he retched bile into the bucket Sniper had grabbed for him. The very sick man made no effort to respond. He just discarded his red gloves now soaked with vomit and snapped on a fresh pair from the cabinet. "Wot had ya all worked up, Doc?" Sniper said, pulling the bolt out of his rifle and whipping a round in the chamber with one fluid motion.

Medic tried to ignore the horrible buzzing in the back of his head as his brain tried to form words that his numb lips didn't want to speak. "A sentry gutted me. Didn't even see ze nest." Medic mindlessly began shouldering on the heavy battery to the Medi-gun and he strapped it around his waist. He stood his gun on its end, pressed the lip of it against his face until it covered his mouth and nostrils and flicked the switch on low.

Pure, warm energy filled his entire body. The churning in his stomach slowly stopped, the awful buzzing in his skull ceased, and he allowed himself a small overdose, his muscles flexing and his heart beat quickening beneath his pristine white lab coat. A maniacal grin stretched across his face and Sniper frowned.

"That stuff's gonna kill ya one day, mate. That can't be good for ya." Medic shot him glance, but Sniper wasn't worth his time. "That bein' said, hit me up 'fore I head out," Medic rolled his eyes and cranked the Medi-gun on high and trained it on Sniper. A beam of brilliant red light swirled out of the end of the gun and surrounded Sniper, leaking into his skin, his eyes, his nose, his stupid grin. When Medic shut the machine off, Sniper jumped in the air and yelped. "I tell ya right there, mate that is better than any high I've eva gotten in my life!" The now jittery Sniper ran out of the respawn room whooping and throwing his hat in the air. Medic secured his Medi-gun to the battery and took a deep breath, bracing himself to rush back into the fray. He had another moment as a body appeared on the floor. Someone was in the process of respawning… respawning into Medic's vomit. He had the decency to slide the bucket closer to the unconscious person, still materializing. Medic ran outside.

He bolted out of the respawn room and down the dirt hill where the resupply station was. Everyone was at the last cap by now, but Medic was still careful. There might have been a BLU Engineer's nest holed up somewhere he couldn't see. He closed his eyes and listened for the beeping of any sentries. He couldn't hear anything, so he tensed his chest up and dashed out of the resupply room. Medic was very fast, second fastest on the team, with Scout leading by a long shot. No one could outrun the boisterous, cocky, selfish, youngest member of the team, but Medic could certainly get close. His rubber boots thundered on the dusty ground and he streaked away to another hiding point. He secured his Medi-gun to his belt and began fiddling with his weapon. He cursed in German as he realized he had forgotten to grab ammo on his mad dash out of the resupply room. He would have to find Engineer, and fast. For now he just slipped his gloved hand into the finger holes on his bone saw and slunk through the shadows until he could hear gunfire. His ears instantly blocked out the screams of the dying, rockets exploding, and fire belching from a Pyro's flamethrower. He was focused on one sound, and he heard it. It was close.

"Medic! Meeedic! Doc, c'mon, man! I'm dying here!" a very distinct voice was shouting, half in desperation, half in agony. Medic reeled around the corner and sprinted until he got to the source of the wailing. Scout was in bad shape when he got to him. "Oh thank God!" Scout's eyes closed in relief and he winced as he shifted his weight.

"Don't move, you'll only make zhings vorse," Medic said flatly as he knelt beside the boy. Scout uttered a low groan of pain. "Lie down," Medic instructed, and he supported the boy's head as he straightened out his rigid joints.

"Any chance your usin' the quick-fix today?" Scout said hopefully. Medic shook his head as he cut through Scout's shirt to see the damage.

"Vhat happened?" Medic asked. This was all just routine to him. Systematically he pulled a small red sewing kit from inside of his lab coat and popped it open, as he could already see Scout's mangled shoulder.

"Geez, what didn't happen?" Scout began, sucking air into his lungs. Medic shot him a warning glance.

"I don't need a life story about your heroics; just tell me about your injuries, Herr Scout." Medic waited impatiently, his steel gray eyes offering no sympathy. Scout's face fell in defeat. He grumbled something about bedside manner before he launched into a semi-life story.

"Well I was standin' there, cappin' the point, when all of a sudden I gotta stop an' tie my shoe. I'm a 'dummkopf', I know, before you tell me." Scout drew up his face in a tight disapproving frown and he mimicked Medic's accent when he said dummkopf, but Medic didn't even register the insult. He wanted Scout to continue with the story; due to the alarming rate blood was oozing out of his shoulder. "Anyway, I wasn't payin' attention and I got sniped. But I gotta tell ya, the BLU Sniper's piss-fumes must've been getting' to his head because he completely missed me! The chunk of lead when clean through my shoulder. The force of the blow knocked me into the water, and since it's kinda impossible to swim with one arm while the other is completely floppy, I started to drown. I'd drowned before, but I did NOT want to respawn today. So as the last of breath leaked out of my lungs, meathead pulled me outta the water, before he got sniped himself."

Medic cringed at the thought of his friend having to respawn, but the emotion flashed so briefly on his face that Scout didn't even recognize it. "I was too far away from Engie, so I came running to you, but I was pretty waterlogged, ya see? My legs didn't feel like working and my feet got all tingly, so I just kinda sat down here and waited for you or death, whoever found me first." Medic nodded curtly and began assessing the situation. The Medi-gun would take care of the shock and his lungs, which by the way he talked Medic could tell water had gotten into them. It was a wonder he was still alive; it must have been the last dredges of his enhanced heart that was still faithfully pumping blood through his small body.

Medic flicked a lighter on and began passing a needle through the flame. Scout screwed his eyes shut, imagining the pain to come. Medic worked quickly and efficiently, plunging the hot needle into Scout's shoulder and pulling the flesh taut. He showed nothing on his face but concentration, but Scout's painful whimpers were forcing the corners of his mouth upward.

"I need to flip you over…it vill be no problem, but razer…_unceremonious._" Medic allowed himself to grin as he found the appropriate word. Scout just glared at him and said nothing. Medic picked Scout up like a ragdoll, no problem for him. Medic's back was extremely strong from the constant carrying of the cumbersome battery to his field Medi-gun. He pressed the smaller man to his broad chest and eased him down onto the ground. Scout's face was red from embarrassment and he pouted as Medic cleaned the area around the entrance wound.

"Yenno I didn't choose to be this small," Scout said defensively. "God just felt like havin' a good laugh when he mixed my genetics together or somethin'. It's not like you have a right to judge anybody though," Scout felt the need to add. Medic's face hardened at this remark, though usually insults flew right over his head. He angrily jabbed the needle into Scout's torn flesh and Scout cursed, twisting around to face the doctor. "Dat HOIT!" Medic pushed his face into the dirt with a large hand, which only caused Scout to squirm under the needle even more. Medic finished the second part rather messily, but it was the best he could do with Scout's moving and cussing.

"Now, are you ready for ze gut part?" Medic grinned and Scout grinned back, their miniscule scuffle immediately forgotten.

"I'm always ready!" Scout struggled to his feet and opened his arms, ready to accept the healing rays. Medic cranked it up all the way and hit Scout with the beam of red light. The effect was instantaneous. Scout's flushed face and bloodshot eyes perked up immediately, and the skin around his shoulder wound tightened, pulling at the stiches until they were secure. It also dried off his soaked clothing, and he couldn't help but laugh joyously as all of his aches and pain were washed away by the warm, soothing light. Some of the beam always leaked away from the main point of focus and fueled Medic as well. He felt energy coursing through his veins as adrenaline began rushing through him at an incredible rate. As soon as Scout was able to run again, he took off, a red blur leaving dust in his trail, with Medic pounding after him.

A/N...Hello. :3 This is my first story on here so...let me know if I do anything wrong...


	2. Scars

A/N: Thank you Taranodongirl1 for following and favoriting, thank you FreeSocksForAll for following, and HUGE thank you to Annomynous for reviewing. I appreciate anything I get.

Also, small disclaimer for this chapter. This chapter is filler and build-up, but I like writing filler. So love it or hate it, you decide. My current schedule for posting will be every Monday and Thursday, but ONTO THE STORY.

The exhausted Mercs retired back to the base after a long, particularly brutal bloodbath, which ended in victory for them. They were all in a cheerful mood, slapping each other on the back and telling each other about their kills. Medic was sore, and wanted nothing more than a shower and sleep, but he was also in a rare happy mood. He smiled at his comrades being civil to one another for once. No one offered him any slaps on the back, however, but this was merely because he was covered in blood. Scout was the first of many injuries. After he patched Scout up, Solly finally complied to treatment after he lost all of the fingers on his right hand, then Spy had taken a wrench to the stomach. Medic had found him weakly crying his name as he held his intestines in with one hand. Medic had barely been able to save him because Solly kept trying to hold his guts in for him, but Medic kept reassuring him he was perfectly capable.

"Aye, who's cookin' t'naet?" Demo called as he shrugged his vest off, hanging it in the corridor.

"Can we order pizza?" Scout asked hopefully, but no one answered him. Medic could care less who cooked, all he wanted was food.

"I could whip us up somethin' tasty," Engineer offered. Spy made a noise in the back of his throat.

"Not your disgusting, fried, American food again. I had diarrhea for a week the last time you cooked." He blew a smoke ring in Engie's direction. A large sigh came from the back of the group.

"Heavy will cook. Okroshka, vatrushka, maybe Lymonnyk if Heavy feel like it. Sound good?" The mountain of a man made his way through the crowd and stood in front of the others mercs. Nobody said anything. Rarely anyone disagreed with Heavy. They knew Heavy would never hurt one of them without good reason, but they knew that he could smash their skulls into their ankles with a flick of his wrist. He loomed above everyone at 6'6", incredibly broad shouldered and strong. He resembled the bears he used to hunt back in Siberia. But it wasn't just his size that made him scary; it was that he was smart too. He didn't have a great hold on the English language, which made him sound stupid most of the time, but hidden intelligence lay beyond his small, black eyes.

"I don't like vatrushka, you know zhat." Medic said with a bored tone of voice. "I'm going to ze vashroom, nobody cause any internal bleeding vhile I'm avay." He walked stiffly down the hall.

"I think I'll join him. Anyone else?" Engineer said as he looked around the room. Sniper waved his hand.

"I'll meetcha back there,"

Medic stood shirtless in front of the mirror for a long time. He disdainfully ran a hand through his graying sideburns and studied his long face. His face was hardened by years of war, and he could see every worry line and every grief line in his handsome face. His hair was as thick as ever, though he felt frustration bubble in his stomach at his slightly receding hairline. His gray eyes were nothing special, and he had always hated his large nose. He backed up a little bit and flexed in front of the mirror, relieved to see he was as chiseled as he was ten years ago. He was sure the Medi-gun kept him looking younger than most, but it did nothing to stop the aging process. He stripped the rest of the way down and began washing the caked blood off of his face. The door swung open as the Engineer and the Sniper came in to shower themselves. Medic squinted to make them out, and he put his glasses on in the open washroom because he was sure they would try to make small talk.

"How are ya', Doc?" Engineer smiled at him, snapping his goggles off.

"We thought we'd join ya," Sniper added.

Engineer was about Medic's age, if not older. They were the oldest on the team, with Medic about to turn 47, so he guessed the Engineer was close to 50. Sniper was a bit younger than Medic, having just turned 40 himself. Age had not treated Engie's hair so well. He wore a hardhat 90% of the time, but when he removed it he was completely bald. When he saw Engie without a hat, Medic was thankful for just having a slightly receding hairline. Engie was one of the shorter men, About the same height as Scout. Medic was barely in the clear, being an inch under Solly and Demo, taller than Pyro. Engie was short, but stocky, and well-muscled. Sniper, on the other hand…

Though he was older, he still turned the heads of many girls he walked by. Chestnut brown, wavy hair, very tall and fit. The accent gave him major points as well.

As Medic studied the two men in the washroom with him, one might find the immense diversity amusing, but they all had one thing in common: scars. Sniper had many nasty ones. Medic counted a few bullet wounds and the clean, straight, pink one they all had from Medic installing the Uber technology and respawn chip, but Sniper's back was awful. Medic couldn't count the many horrible backstab scars that Sniper had. There were countless ones that just ate up his back. He also couldn't forget about the one that ran from his temple to his jawline, the one BLU Spy had left him permanently. Medic had to look away the ravaged flesh.

The only scars on Engie Medic saw immediately were his hands. He had lots of scar tissue built up on his hands from where we worked with metal all day long. Then there was the persistent bruise that bloomed along the bottom of Engie's stomach. The Engineer had type I Diabeetus and he had to inject himself with insulin every day.

Medic looked down at his own body. He had his fair share of scars. None too excited, though. He glanced down at his wrists in shame. Back when the Medi-gun had just been in liquid form, Medic had become addicted to it, injecting himself with it multiple times a day. His wrists were hacked to pieces from the countless needles he had pierced himself with. He self-consciously rubbed them and continued with his shower.

Medic poked Heavy in the ribs. "You should be eating more vegetables," he chided. "All zhis fat and grease is not conducive to a healzy body." Medic was the ONLY person who could get away with poking Heavy in the ribs. You were pretty stupid to begin with to poke a bear, but Heavy just smiled and popped a carrot in his mouth, pointedly chewing at the doctor. There was a round of muffled snickers at the table, but Medic had learned to ignore them. He and Heavy were always some part of a running joke to the other mercs, but he had never bothered to find out what it was.

"What? Why did we all just laugh? What was funny?" Scout said quite obnoxiously, spewing bits of Okroshka everywhere. Scout let out a sharp yelp of pain and Medic looked up, narrowing his eyes. "Why'd you kick me, Cyclops?" Scout hollered at Demo who shrugged his shoulders innocently. Medic returned his eyes to his meal. They all sat in silence for a while until Medic announced:

"I know zis is ze last sing you all vant to do tonight, but vhat kind soul vould like to help me file papervork?" Medic looked expectantly around the table, but everyone mumbled excuses or concentrated on their meals. "Right, because you von't help ze man vho saves your sad lives on a daily basis file papervork." More silence.

"Heavy will help Medic with paper," he volunteered when no one else said anything. There was a catcall that came from someone at the table and Scout raised his head as a smile came to his face.

"Ooohhh! I get it now!" he began laughing. Medic set his fork down and his face reddened.

"Vell I fail to see vhat is so funny to everyvone!" he yelled. He stood up so fast his chair toppled over and hit the floor. "Guten nacht, men. Or should I say _children_? Because you certainly act like children!" Medic felt just how red his face was as everyone stared at him dumbly. He whirled around and stalked off to his lab, slamming the door behind him.

Everyone's eyes shifted to Heavy, who had stopped eating, something he rarely did.

"Doktor is right. You are children. Doktor dies over and over to keep you all alive. Doktor takes knives for you. Doktor takes fire for you. Doktor take bullet for you. Doktor made you immortal. Doktor wipe your noses, kiss your booboos, and give you life. All you do is be children. We will not have this discussion again." Heavy scooted his chair away from the table and lumbered down the hallway.

Everyone suddenly lost their appetites. They all turned to glare at Scout.

"What? I got the joke!" he said incredulously.

"You 'ave to ruin everything, don't you, _tromper_," Spy said sullenly.

In his room, Medic was in a particularly bad wrestling match with his demons. This was nothing new to him, but the rage that boiled inside of him made his vision blurry. He slammed his fist down so hard on the crude desk in his room that he felt his pinkie finger crack. Gasping at the sudden pain, it only fueled his rage ever more. He needed something to calm him down, and fast. He could feel his modified heart inside of him thumping painfully against his sternum and he rubbed a hand over the small lump. It was confused at the sudden pain and adrenaline being released in Medic's body.

He couldn't think of anything to do besides go to bed and forget about this day, and forget about the sorry bunch of ingrates that made up his so-called team.

Next time on The Mercs Take New York:

"Dear RED, I've been pulling a lot of strings lately with ze Administrator, and I finally talked her into allowing you guys a-" Spy paused, then spit the next word out like it was poison. "_Vacation_." Medic froze.


	3. Are we there yet?

**A/N: OH MY GOD YOU GUYS. I LOVE EACH AND EVERY ONE OF YOU. In fact, I love you so much I've decided to post this chapter a day early. It's kind of short, but I'm working on a super secret project for you all. :3 **

**Thank you to C-Lif3, Inkwell97, Kirakishowl, and chibiofdeath for favoriting, thank you to C-Lif3, Chosenbap, Inkwell97, Kirakishowl, M-Loosky, Mike Emerald, The Archimedes Complex, chibiofdeath, and generalissimosuvorov for following, and HUGE thank you to Annoymynous, C-Lif3, chibiofdeath, and The Archimedes Complex for reviewing. You guys have no idea how much every single favorite, follow, and review means to me. Every time I check my story and see something new I pee myself a little. **

**And to The Archimedes Complex: There are not enough thank-yous in the world for you. You are honestly in my top three favorite authors on this site, and I had a heart attack when I saw you had reviewed my story.**

**Enough of my rambling...here's what you're all here for:**

Medic woke groggily to the sound of Soldier beating on his door.

"We've got be up bright eyed and bushy tailed, maggot! Americans don't sleep in!" he shouted through the locked door.

"Still German," he muttered softly. He quickly dressed and made his way down to the common room, where everyone was sitting in a circle around the table, oddly quiet. Curiously, Medic took his own seat and turned his attention to a bewildered Spy who kept reading a piece of paper over and over. Medic waited patiently to hear what Spy had to say. He cleared his throat and began.

"We received a letter last night from Ms. Pauling. She wishes to- ah…we've been issued-…" Spy was lost for words. Medic narrowed his eyes; it was rare for Spy to let his emotions show on his face.

"Spit it out, Frenchie, we ain't got all day!" Scout shouted from his chair. Medic winced at the nasally assault to his ears. Spy glared at Scout and began reading the letter.

"Dear RED, I've been pulling a lot of strings lately with ze Administrator, and I finally talked her into allowing you guys a-" Spy paused, then spit the next word out like it was poison. "_Vacation_." Medic froze. He slowly looked around, gauging everyone's reaction. Scout, Sniper, Engie, and Pyro all let out great cheers. Demo slammed his fist down on the table.

"It's aboot time!" he shouted belligerently.

"Soldiers do not take vacations! Vacations are for the scum-sucking, yellow bellied, lily livered BLU team!" Solly said, appalled at the idea. Even Heavy was smiling at the news. Medic met Spy's eyes briefly and they reflected his own thoughts. The LAST thing Medic wanted was to be cooped up with these hooligans in a hotel with no escape.

"Where to?" Heavy inquired.

"Ze Big Apple," Spy replied. Heavy looked to Medic for clarification.

"New York. Ve are going to New York."

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Medic was wrong. There _was _a place in Hell for him: it was the back of Sniper's van . Spy had gone on to read that the vacation was mandatory, a mental health vacation. Medic had snorted at that part, he was far too crazy for any amount of mental health days. Ms. Pauling had booked them a very nice hotel with an indoor pool and free breakfast.

What was she thinking, sending nine war-hardened mercenaries into a cramped, heavily populated area? Solly asked what the mission was, and she simply said 'Relax and try to have some fun.' Currently, they were all cramped together in the back of Sniper's van, and it was _freezing. _Having been in New Mexico for the past six years, a lot of the men had forgotten what cold felt like. Soldier and Demo were playing a round of poker at a tiny, filthy table and two chairs bolted into the floor. Scout was quiet for once, lazily throwing his baseball up in the air and catching it in his wrapped hands. Spy had claimed shotgun, and whipped out his knife, snarling at anyone who even thought about taking his seat. Pyro was content flipping his lighter open and close over and over, and Engie was asleep on a moth-eaten mattress in the corner. Heavy sat beside the doctor, silently staring outside the window.

Medic just sat beside Heavy and shivered. He was colder than he had ever been in his life. They had driven into snow about an hour ago, and since then the doctor just got colder. The most frustrating thing was that nobody else was as cold as him. Sure, they shook out their frigid muscles once in a while but no one complained. Medic must have been getting sick. He had on his normal gear, except his lab coat which he opted to leave at home. On top of his clothes he had on an extra shirt, a scarf, a hat, a blanket wrapped around his hunched shoulders, and Heavy's vest which the Russian had recently draped over his shoulders. Maybe he was getting sick, maybe he was just getting old. Whatever the reason, it just made him grumpier as they rode in silence.

Half an hour later, Medic was curled into the tightest ball possible and looked to see if Engie was awake so he could fix the heat in Sniper's van. Then all of a sudden, something huge and warm wrapped itself around his shoulder and he was smashed against Heavy's side. Medic couldn't protest or he would get a mouthful of Heavy's armpit. He wriggled until he was facing forward, and realized the awkward situation. Scout glanced over and didn't even try to hold in his laughter.

"Didja get a little cold over there, doc?" he said, amusement cracking his voice. Medic felt his face become warm despite how cold he was. The other men just shook their heads and smirked. Medic found it pointless to get upset, and he could honestly care less. Heavy felt like a freaking toaster oven. He soon drifted off to sleep.

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Medic was jostled awake a couple of hours later by Heavy.

"Is time to wake up, doktor." He said quietly. Other voices found their way into his ears and all he wanted to do was curl up and go back to sleep. He grunted and sat up, groggy from his nap. He had slept _hard; _the left side of his face was striped with schmericks from Heavy's shirt, and as he glanced over at him there was small dark spot on his shirt where Medic had been drooling. He felt no embarrassment that he had fallen asleep on his friend; that nap had been the best sleep he'd had in weeks. He stumbled to his feet, his frozen muscles groaning in protest, his joints cracking. Everyone was hopping off of the van while Sniper filled up the tank.

"Are we there yet? Where's all th' big TV screens and stores an' crap?" Scout complained. In his defense, their surroundings were pretty bleak. It wasn't snowing quite as hard as it was a state back, but flakes were still softly gathering on the ground.

"We're in Ohio roight now. Almost there." Sniper answered him and he rubbed his nose furiously, trying to bring warmth back into it. Medic let out a breath, a smile almost making its way to his face. Pyro was happily twirling and frolicking around in the flakes, making a noise that sounded somewhat like a laugh. Snow was something the mercs hadn't seen in a long time, and if you were Sniper, it was your first.

"I dunno if I like this stuff," Sniper said from the pump. "It's 'ard to drive in."

"Reminds me of home." Heavy said stoically, with a twinge of sadness edging his voice. "Heavy miss little sisters." Medic didn't feel it was appropriate to say anything, he just pursed his lips and nodded in agreement. He glanced up at Heavy, and his expression was solemn, his eyes shining. Medic patted him on the back. He would've grabbed his shoulder reassuringly, but he couldn't reach that high.

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**Again, sorry for the short chapter but I PROMISE my secret project is worth it. **

**Next time on The Mercs Take New York: (coming to a Thursday near you!)**

"It's quite allright, sir. You wouldn't believe the lunatics we get in here sometimes." The receptionist laughed a bit and Engie chuckled along with her.


	4. Checking in

**A/N: Hey, Endergirl? When are you gonna post chapter when you say?**

**NEVAAAAR! *hon hon hon* :3**

**Guess what? Here's another early chapter. I can't heeelp it. Reviews give me life, man! **

**Thanks to 2BlondieGirl, Chosenbap, Lady Isludis, and Leahth for favoriting, thanks to Abilxey, Anniegirl97, ChibiTheDemonic, Lady Isludis, Leahth, SkylarkOfTheMoon, TalkingTopHat, and Zeruzu for following, and HUGE thank you to SkylarkOfTheMoon, Annomynous, Leahth, chibiofdeath, Abilxey, and Taranodongirl1 for reviewing! **

**To Annomynous: I have no idea what I would do with my life without your reviews. I wish I could shake your hand or hug you or kiss you in person, because whenever I read your reviews they give me so much fulfillment*sniff* thank you again. **

**Also...my Christmas special is out. You should go read it, like, right now. Come back here later and go read my Christmas story. I'll be waiting...**

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The rest of the drive was, for the most part, painless. They arrived at their hotel some hours later and they all were shoving their way out of the van; Heavy a silent force, pushing people away so Medic wouldn't get trampled in the fray.

They immediately saw how dire their situation was.

They stood incredibly close together like they would in a tight-knit battle situation. All in a circle, with Medic in the middle, protecting the doctor. It wasn't as though Medic couldn't have snapped a man's neck with one calculated twist, or shoot a row of large, hypodermic needles into someone's exposed flesh from a hundred yards away. No, they kept the doctor in the middle because he was the most precious cargo. The doctor kept them alive. Sometimes, if things got tough they rotated Sniper in the middle so the bushman could get a few clear shots before slipped back to the outside.

But they were not in the middle of a war zone with bullets and body parts raining down on them, they were in the middle of Times Square with hundreds of people pouring around them on all sides.

Kind of the same thing, actually.

The people didn't even look and merely parted around this strange cluster of fully grown men who look like they were ready to storm the place. They hadn't been around many people other than themselves for the past six years. Sure, they made frequent runs into town, but the tiny town of TeuFort had about 300 residents, max.

Medic's heart jumped to his throat. All of these people, all of these sounds…he felt his entire world begin to dip and sway oddly. He managed to make sort of a small choking noise, enough for Heavy to lean over to the Engineer and whisper something. In no world would Medic have been able to hear what he said; the constant din of the crowd was pounding inside of his skull. Engie passed the message around the circle and the team nodded without a word. Engie stepped into the middle and slid his arm through Medic's. The team adjusted the circle likewise as Engie started to speak to Medic.

"Hey there, doc. You think you can do something for me?" he asked, his warm, pleasant voice drawing Medic out of the depths of his mind. He just nodded stupidly at the Engineer. "All I need you to do is focus of the sound of my voice, can ya'll manage that? Think only about my voice, okay? Remember when you first got here and we couldn't understand what each other was sayin'? Remember what you said? 'Zis is not the English I learned,' Ain't that funny?" Engie tried his best at a German accent and failed horribly, but he managed to get a faint smile out of Medic. The entire time this was happening, the rest of the mercs moved together as one body and one mind, all the way to the hotel. None of them said a word, and none of them judged. Medic was sure he would never hear the end of it, but they were all scared of something. For Medic, it was bees and crowds.

They managed to get to their hotel without injury and broke up, forming a defensive line in the middle of the lobby. The receptionist looked up, alarmed at nine burly (except one) men standing completely still in front of her.

"C-can I help you?" she said, petrified. Engie stepped forward and scowled at the team.

"Have y'all forgotten how to act? You're scarin' the poor girl to death!" Engie smiled and tipped his hat to the girl. Ms. Pauling had told them not to bring their uniforms, so Engie had opted for a cowboy hat to hide his chrome dome, but still wore his welding goggles. He waltzed up to the lady and leaned on the counter, slightly putting her at ease. "I'm sorry, ma'am, we didn't mean to frighten y'all like that. We don't get out much." His lazy speech seemed to calm her down slowly and she even managed a smile.

"It's quite allright, sir. You wouldn't believe the lunatics we get in here sometimes." The receptionist laughed a bit and Engie chuckled along with her.

"We have some rooms booked, they should be under Pauling?" Engie said patiently. She looked through the files on the computer and frowned slightly.

"I'm sorry, we don't have any under that name, but a certain Pauling called and registered three rooms in three different names. Conagher, Mundy, and DeGroot. Does any of that sound familiar? She said there were three people in each room, so that must be you guys." She beamed, proud of herself for figuring it out. "But she did uh…'assign' you all to your rooms."

"And what would that assignment be?" Spy spoke up from the tight line that was still formed behind Engie.

"I'm sorry sir, you can't smoke in the lobby," the receptionist said as Spy took a long drag of his cigarette. Spy remained emotionless, but everyone around him could feel his tension.

"My apologies," he said and pushed up his glove just enough to where you could see the base of his palm and he put it out in his hand, never flinching and never breaking eye contact with the receptionist. She swallowed thickly and turned to the Engineer for help with the disturbing scene from the weirdo in a ski mask. Medic felt that if he rolled his eyes any harder they would fall onto the floor. He knew that as soon as they got out of the lobby Spy would be whining to the doctor about his hand. Engie shot Spy a murderous glare and turned back to the woman.

"You'll have to excuse him, little lady, he's a bit…_socially inept._" Engie said, pronouncing each syllable as it fell off his tongue. Spy tensed up and opened his mouth to retort, but Demo reached up and smacked him in the back of the head to shut him up. The receptionist didn't laugh this time, just nervously smiled and looked back to the computer.

"Well, she was very adamant about the room arrangements, how did she put it…so you wouldn't _gouge each other's eyeballs out_?" she frowned and glanced back to the men. "She also just gave me your nicknames, except for the three last names to register the room. Anyway, in the DeGroot room is…" she cleared her throat, still frowning at her computer. "Demoman? Uh…Soldier, and Spy? Hopefully that makes sense to you all." Spy's jaw fell open.

"She put me in a room with…you two?" he snarled, facing Demo.

"Watch that tone, son! We're all Americans here," Soldier said, not breaking his at arms stance.

"Dunnae look at me, laddie, 'm not Ms. Pauling. I dunnae knoe wha' goes on in tha' pretty head of hers," he shrugged his shoulders. The only not burly one stepped out of line.

"Hey, don't you be hittin' on my girlfriend, Cyclops! I will knock you inta next week!" he poked a finger into the Scottish man's chest. He had a thick, undeniable Boston accent. Then, a man she had somehow missed grabbed the boy and picked him up clear off the floor. She gulped, noting that he was the biggest person she had ever seen in her life. The smaller man squirmed and kicked, shouting curses and threats.

"Enough, little baby man." The Russian growled and dropped him like a bag of groceries. The receptionist pinched herself slightly, making sure she wasn't dreaming. The diversity was unreal. Comical, even.

"Uh, anyway, the Conagher room is the Engineer, Scout, and Pyro." She said quickly, wanting these men out of her lobby. Then all of a sudden a…_thing_ skipped up to her desk and snatched the key she was holding. She gasped and nearly tripped over her chair. The man, woman, thing was wearing a full-on asbestos-lined fire retardant suit and all she could hear was wheezing and some muffled speech. "Th-then, the Mundy room is Sniper, Medic, and Heavy." She finished and held the key out hopefully.

"No worries, Sheila!" Sniper strolled up to her and took the key from her hand. Her gaze lingered on him longer than normal, her eyes slipping to his slightly unbuttoned shirt which chest hair peeking out. He peered over his aviators and tipped his hat to her. The only man who hadn't reacted yet rolled his eyes and sighed heavily. He was handsome as well, but he was older than the man before him. He didn't notice her gaze travelling his body as well.

"Danke, fraulein, sorry if ve vere much trouble." He said in an obvious German accent. Of course. All they needed was a German. The men walked off and she practically fell into her desk chair, considering asking her boss for the rest of the day off.

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**Next time on The Mercs Take New York: **

"Oi! I'm not saggy!" Sniper protested from the back of the room.

**Go read my Christmas story.**

**pls**


	5. I'm European

**Endergirl, can I ask you something?**

_**Yes, my dear audience?**_

**Does this story actually have a plot?**

_***pales.* Uhm, yes. Of course it does! It just comes a bit later...**_

**No favorites or follows between now and my last update, but thanks to SkylarkOfTheMoon, Annomynous, Giselle, chibiofdeath, and GreenbladeXY for reviewing! And HUUUGE thanks to you guys for receiving my Christmas story so well...*does a happy dance* you are all so beautiful. Medic might be a bit out of character briefly in this chapter, but ah well.**

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"This is the stupidest idea y'all've had all day," Engineer growled as the elevator groaned with effort.

"This elevator was made by Americans, maggot! Of course it will carry us to our floor!" Soldier barked at him, but the squealing gears said otherwise. For some reason, they thought it wise to all squeeze into the elevator together. Medic was currently smashed between the wall, Heavy, and a very irritated Spy. The elevator made it to the floor and the men quite literally exploded out of it, some of them falling to the ground. There was a wheezing sound as Scout crawled out of the elevator on his hands and knees.

"Are you all right, Herr Scout?" Medic frowned, lending a hand to help the boy off the ground.

"Yeah, sure, I'm perfectly fine after being smashed in a tiny room with eight old guys who smell like they've been fighting' a war in New Mexico for the last six years!" he shouted at the doctor. Medic simply hauled him to his feet and they found their rooms were in a row, right beside each other.

Ms. Pauling had spared no expense when booking their hotel. The rooms were very nice, and the normally emotionless doctor found himself smiling as he entered. There was only one bed, but there was couch that looked just as comfortable. Heavy immediately threw himself on the bed, breathing in the scent of the clean sheets. With Heavy spread out like a starfish, he covered the entire mattress. Medic helped Sniper with the bags and they began to discuss their sleeping arrangements.

"It seems as though Heavy has claimed ze bed," Medic said, amused as the large man snuggling himself up in the blankets. Though it was probably big enough to hold two people, Medic said this to avoid further ridicule by his teammates.

"You can 'ave the couch, mate." Sniper said as he fished his bag out of the luggage pile.

"Are you sure? I vouldn't mind ze floor-" Medic began to protest but Sniper held a hand up.

"Wif years of me sleepin' in my van, this floor will feel like Heaven itself," Sniper said, giving the doctor a small smile. Medic knew that Sniper was just being polite, and a bit on edge from having to stay in the same room as people. Like the Medic, Sniper didn't like for there to be a lot of people around, though he didn't have a panic attack in a large crowd like Medic. Sniper had always been antisocial, only coming inside to eat, shower, or play cards. He wasn't rude about it; the man just liked his space.

Medic stretched himself out on the couch, sinking into its cushions. "Zis feels vunderbar on my old bones," he murmured, lazily watching Sniper sort out his clothes and things. He hadn't brought much: just a change of clothes, a handful of socks, hair gel, and his kukri.

"Hair gel?" Medic said, laughing. Sniper whirled around, but there was no embarrassment on his face.

"Yea, mate! Gotta look my best for the ladies! Sorry there's no 'elp for your ugly mug," he smirked. Medic opened his mouth to protest, but he knew Sniper was only joking. They had just gotten settled when there was a knock on the door.

"Open up, chucklenuts, we're goin' swimmin'!" a loud, obnoxious voice called from the other side. Medic closed his eyes and massaged his temples, mentally sending his thanks to Ms. Pauling that she hadn't put Scout in a room with him. Heavy rolled off the bed and opened the door, filling the entire frame. Scout pushed passed him and walked in the room, wearing nothing but Spiderman swim trunks. The childish attire and his boyish features only made him look that much younger. Medic couldn't suppress the snicker that escaped his mouth. Scout immediately spun around to face him. "What's so funny, ya Kraut?" he scowled. "I'd like to see you old dudes in ya swimmin' gear! You don't wanna because you're saggy, is that it?" he grinned.

"Oi! I'm not saggy!" Sniper protested from the back of the room.

"Sure ya aren't! Then why don't ya get dressed?" he said poking a finger into Sniper's chest.

"I don't believe you've even given us a chance to answer you, Herr Scout. I, myself, vouldn't mind a dip in ze pool," Medic said, rising from the couch. "Anyvay, I assure you my 'old man body' is much more attractive zan zhat bag of bones you call a physique." Medic sneered, looking over Scout. Scout's face immediately reddened, but he was interrupted by having to yank up his swim trunks to keep them from sliding off his bony hips. Medic felt his gaze peruse the boy, still thinking about the scars they all had. Scout, however, seemed completely devoid of scars, except for a messy one that was on the front of his birdlike chest.

Instead of a barely noticeable clean line all the mercs had, Scout's looked like someone had hacked into his chest with a dull scalpel. Medic winced, knowing that it was his handiwork, when in a frenzy he had dug out his beloved pet dove when he had accidentally sewn him into Scout's chest.

"Hey, what are you lookin' at, creep?" Scout said to the doctor, striding up to him and getting in his face. Scout was about a head shorter than the doctor, but he had enough personality for the entire team.

"Oh, nozing, just wistfully yearning for my younger self, dreaming zat I didn't look so..." with one fluid movement Medic pulled his shirt over his head and grinned at the boy. "_…__old_." Medic pretended to stretch, raising his arms over his head, his muscular body tensing as he fake yawned. A sparse covering of black, curly chest hair was smeared across his pecks, and he strained harder to flex his abdomen, his six pack surfacing. When he was done with his little display he stood in front of Scout, trying not to laugh at the sour expression on his face. "Vhat?" Medic asked simply, his muscles gliding underneath his skin smoothly.

"Yea, whatever gramps," Scout mumbled to himself as he waved the men off. When Scout had left the room the three men looked at each other and burst out laughing. Sniper wiped a tear away from his eye.

"That…that was bloody hilarious, mate!" Sniper doubled over, holding his stomach. "Oi didn't know you had that in ya, doc!" To be honest, neither did Medic. He just laughed along with the others, a bit embarrassed at himself. "Allroight, allroight, lemme…lemme change." Sniper turned his back to the men and shimmied out of his clothes. Medic did the same, slipping on his plain black trunks that hugged his thighs a bit tighter than he remembered. Well, he couldn't remember the last time he had been swimming for fun.

"I do not think little man expected that from doktor." Heavy's shoulders shook as he was still chuckling. Heavy and Medic were changed and piddling around the room, waiting on Sniper.

"Allroight, I'm ready," he turned around.

"…"

"Wot?" Sniper said, taking a step back from the two men who were now looking at him with their jaws open.

"Sniper…I don't zhink…ah…ve are in America…" Medic tried to make words come out of his mouth but his tongue was suddenly useless. Though he was working it quite well, Sniper had on a bright red speedo that was about a size too small for him.

"Are you serious? I don't even own a pair of bleedin' trunks because I'm an Australian! Yer lucky I packed anything at all!" Sniper said, a bit angry. Medic gave him an exasperated sigh.

"I'm European." Was all he said, accompanied with a knowing look.

"Then you of all people should- ya know what? I don't need to explain myself ta you two. No shame in my game!" Sniper said and strutted out of the room, going to knock on Scout's door. Heavy was wearing a pair of Mann Co. issued swim trunks that fit him perfectly and a white tank top, following Sniper out of the room. Medic followed, only to be hit with a blast of freezing air. He stood closer to Heavy, using the man as a shield for the wind. He was usually using him as a shield from bullets, but the wind was just as bad. Engie was the one to answer, ushering the men inside from the freezing air.

"Y'all ready?" he called to Scout who immediately jumped up and ran to the door, bouncing up and down.

"Let's go already, ya geezers!" he yelled impatiently, trying to force his way out the door.

"We're still waitin' on Demo and Solly, calm yerself until then." Sniper scolded him like a child. "Honestly, he's loike a kid beggin' his parents to take him to the pool." He muttered under his breath, but Scout heard him.

"I'm twenty-one, grandpa, and I don't wanna hear it!" he balled up his fist in anger. Medic had had enough.

"Honestly, Scout, how old do you zhink ve are?" he said, pinching the bridge of his nose just under his glasses.

"I dunno, like seventy?" he said, fiddling with the dogtags around his neck.

"Seven-do I look seventy ta you?" Sniper sputtered, stepping around everyone and revealing himself. Truth be told, with his body he barely looked 30. "Oi just turned forty a few months ago!" he said, his hands on his hips. "Wha?" he said incredulously when he realized Engineer had turned his back to him and Scout's face was beyond red. Sniper growled, realizing the issue. "Are you joshin' me? WE SHOWER IN AN OPEN WASHROOM EVERYDAY WIF EACH OTHER AND YOU BLOKES ARE EMBARRASED BY MY SPEEDO?!" He threw up his hands in frustration. Engie finally turned around, keeping his eyes locked onto Sniper's, not allowing them to dip lower.

"It's just that it's a bit too small, partner," he said helpfully. Sniper wasn't hearing it and he angrily stalked out of the room, beating on the door, yelling for Soldier and Demo to hurry up.

**Next time on The Mercs Take New York: **

"You inbred, son of a-" a sharp voice sliced through Medic's relaxation and his eyes flew open, head swiveling around to the chicken fight he had forgotten to monitor.

**Also, if you don't know who The Archimedes Complex is, you're severely missing out. He's in the process of writing a ****_truly _****amazing story called ****The Less We Are. ****Seriously, go read it and give him the love he deserves! **


	6. Pool time

**Ask, and YE SHALL RECIEVE. **

**Remember those broken noses I promised? **

**Thanks to ItsSomethingAlright, MagicPainter, The Almighty Pickle Lord XD, and ThisNameIsStupid for favoriting and following, and HUGE thanks to Kirakishowl, Taranodongirl1, Lady Isludis, Annomynous, GreenbladeXY, and Giselle for reviewing! Sorry if I left anyone out or repeated myself, it's veeeerrry late here. **

**I don't think you guys understand how much I love you all. I know I say it every chapter, but whenever I get an email telling me I have another favorite, follow, or review, I have a mini heart attack and just grin like an absolute idiot. The novelty will NEVER wear off, I promise. **

**To Tarandongirl1: Archie had to stay back in Teufort, sadly. Even though he pees in jars and is generally unkempt...Sniper wouldn't allow birds in his van. :( **

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They all decided to take the stairs this time, instead of relying on the elevators. They were only lacking Spy and Pyro, who had stayed behind for obvious reasons. Pyro hated water, and seemed perfectly content in the hotel room. Demo had made him promise he wouldn't start any fires he couldn't handle. He had responded cheerfully and hugged Demo around the neck. Demo had just patted him awkwardly and struggled out of his grip. Spy was just being uppity and refused to…how did he put it? _"__Be in ze mere vicinity of your filth-water."_

Scout was currently taking the stairs three at a time, a mere blur zipping up and down the cement stairwell. When they reached the ground floor, they entered the room where the indoor pool was. Medic sucked in a breath. The place was quite beautiful and well-kept. There was a very large, tastefully curved pool with several people milling around in it. To the left was a lazy river with a couple of people floating around in rafts and chatting. There was a bridge that arched over the river and led to a small Jacuzzi, which is where Demo immediately turned, carrying a water bottle filled with vodka with him.

"Vait, remember, ve are out of range of respawn, so try not to die." Medic called after the team, causing the few people in the pool to glance up at them.

"Yeah, whatever doc! Just watch meeee!" Scout backed up all the way to far end of the room and with a mighty battle cry he took off, attempting a cannonball. Instead, he misjudged his strength and ended up clearing the pool and crashing into the other side of it, slithering into the water.

"So much fer not dyin'" Demo remarked, but Medic didn't hear him for the blood roaring in his ears. He flipped off his glasses and shoved them into Heavy's hands before diving into the pool. He swam strongly and confidently, his focus entirely on the person floating face-down in the water. He reached Scout and dragged him out of the pool with the help of a few men that were near him.

"We need a doctor!" a lady called out, a small crowd quickly forming around Medic. The mercs ushered the crowd back while Medic tended to Scout.

"Don't worry ma'am, this man is a doctor." Engineer offered kindly. "Give him some room."

Medic checked for a pulse and found one strumming beneath his fingers nice and strong. He let out a breath he didn't know he had been holding and rolled Scout onto his side, smacking the boy in the back. Scout's eyes immediately flew open and he vomited a gallon of pool water onto the tiled floor. When he got it all out, he pressed his hands over his heart, grunting painfully. "Oh...man…doc…" Scout didn't get to finish what he was saying before Medic smacked him in the back of the head so hard that Scout's teeth clicked together painfully.

"Dummkopf! Vhat did I just get done saying?" he hissed through his teeth, right in the boy's face.

"Don't die," Scout muttered, looking away in shame.

"Now verdammt, let's relax and try to have a vacation barring death." He helped Scout to his feet and a young brunette immediately ran up to him.

"Are you allright?" she said, her wide green eyes shining.

"Oh yeah, I'm perfectly fine. Wasn't worried at all!" he said, his confidence surging forward. "I face death every day, it ain't news ta me," he said, stepping closer to the woman, who was hanging onto every word he was saying. Medic rolled his eyes and joined the team who were still huddled in a group.

"Let's just try and relax." Medic growled and made his way to the hot tub.

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"Mein Gott…" Medic breathed as he slid deeper into the hot tub.

"Works wonders fer tired muscles, dunnae'it, doctor?" Demo remarked, grinning at Medic. His eye glinted with amusement when he saw the usually stern doctor smiling. "'tis the most relaxed I've ever seen yoo!" Medic simply nodded and surveyed his surroundings lazily. Scout, Heavy, Soldier, and Engie were in the pool currently engaged in a rather bloody chicken fight. Scout was on his knees on Heavy's shoulders, spitting violent curses in Engie's face while the Engineer struggled with the boy. Heavy stood like a fleshy mountain while Soldier tried to kick his feet out from under him, resulting in failure. When they started the pointless charade, Medic had been tense waiting for one of them to hurt themselves. A couple of swigs from Demo's water bottle and the soothing jets of the hot tub calmed him quickly, and he was able to relax. Sniper was asleep, his Akubra titled over his face, his hands folded on his stomach. A trio of girls were sitting near him, and every once in a while they would look over at him and giggle, then whisper noisily to each other and repeat the process.

"You inbred son of a-" a sharp voice cut through Medic's relaxation and his eyes flew open, head swiveling around to the chicken fight he had forgotten to monitor. Scout was clinging onto Heavy's back like a soaked rat, but the fight had ceased due to Scout groaning in pain, his hands covering his face. Medic sighed heavily, contemplating checking on the boy, when Heavy called:

"Doktor!" the large Russian scanned the room, searching for the doctor. In an instant Medic had hauled himself out of the hot tub and was sprinting over to the side of the pool. He was prepared to yell at Scout again, but then he saw the copious amount of blood that was currently spurting out from between Scout's closed fingers.

"Can ve not go a day vizout you mortally vounding yourself?" Medic growled as Heavy passed the boy to the doctor like a sack of potatoes. There was hardly anyone in the pool house at that point, just the group of girls ogling Sniper and they weren't paying attention to the wails of agony from a dramatic half-wit.

"Agh," Scout grunted, cupping his hands as blood continued to steadily pour from his nose, spattering on the ground. "YOU BROKE MY NOSE YOU REDNECK DIRTMONKEY!" Scout screeched and dove for the Engineer, fingernails making contact with his face. Engie yelled in surprise and pain as they were both dragged underwater, clouds of blood billowing in the once clear pool. Heavy calmly reached in the water and grabbed both men by their necks and lifted them out of the pool. Scout considered thrashing, but one look at the enraged doctor and he had the common sense to shut his mouth for one.

"Scout," Medic started, his voice low and hushed. Cold, heartless fury burned in the doctor's unforgiving gray eyes. "Vould you be so kind as to sit still so I can have a look at your nose?" Medic said with no inflection. Scout complied without a word and sat on nearby lounge chair. There was an unsettling hush that had fallen over the pool area, as though the room itself knew not to mess with the doctor when he was like this. The silence had woken up Sniper, who was now peering curiously behind his Aviators. Scout was right, Engineer had broken his nose. His once button-like, boyish nose was now painfully and noticeably twisted to the side. Medic knew the intense pain the boy was in, but at this point he could care less. "Zis is going to hurt. A lot." Medic stated factually and before Scout could protest the doctor had pinched two expert fingers over his nose and gave a sharp twist to the opposite side.

Scout screeched as the pain brought him to his knees and he curled up on the damp floor, writhing in agony. "My face…my face is on fire…" he gasped repeatedly. "I'm gonna be sick," Scout said and the mercenaries took a step back as Scout retched on the pristine white tile. Medic had anticipated this, but he knew the boy wouldn't pass out. If Scout could stay conscious while Medic dug bullets out of his rear end, he could stay conscious for the setting of a broken nose.

"Stop being such a drama queen," Medic growled at him and picked the boy up bridal style, carrying him out of the pool house.

**Next time on The Mercs Take New York:**

"Ja, if he vould just pass out already." Medic grumbled, but he got his wish as they reached their floor.

**This chapter seemed much longer before I put it in the Doc Manager. T.T**


	7. Blood

**IMPORTANT AUTHOR'S NOTE: **

**Uh, Endergirl? Didn't you update like...less than a day ago?**

**YES, and there is a good reason! This chapter is INEXCUSABLY short. You see, I have this entire story finished. (I always pre-write so I don't feel pressure to update) And as I was looking back over my story I realized how short this chapter was and I tried to add to it to make it longer but I liked it way it was. I also defied the laws of medicine slightly in this chapter, hopefully nobody notices what it is. Bonus points to you if you realize XD**

**ANYWAY, thanks to generalisssimos for favoriting, thanks to Datacow40 for favoriting and following, and HUGE thanks to Annomynous and Giselle for reviewing. **

**To Giselle: This chapter is for you, hon. Despite it's length, I hope you enjoy it. And NEVER feel like you're spamming me with reviews, I love reading them all. I'm glad you're enjoying my story! **

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Scout had protested the entire ten flights of stairs, trying to kick away from the doctor while blood continued to drench himself and Medic. Scout had always seemed to seek out trouble, and there was no contest as to who was in the medical bay the most. Whether it was a paper cut or a broken neck, Scout was always whining to the doctor about something. Medic was often teased that he acted like a mother to the mercenaries, and he had to agree. A practical, indifferent mother that would put a bullet in your head and let you respawn to save resources. Everyone had been shocked when Medic had started doing that, but they soon realized it was the most human thing to do. He had first done it when Soldier was on the battle field with both of his legs blown off, trying to crawl back to the medical bay like some twisted horror movie. Medic had rushed out to meet him, but seeing the situation he calmly pulled out a pistol and put one right in between Solly's eyes. Though a respawn like that was particularly traumatic, it was better than trying to sew his legs back on.

"I can walk," Scout said for the hundredth time while Medic just held him tighter to keep the boy from slithering out of his grasp.

"So I've heard," Medic replied emotionless. Though his face didn't show it, everyone around him knew that he was _pissed off. _Scout had been slurring his words since the sixth floor and blood kept trickling out of the side of his mouth. All of the mercs were a bit worried about the Bostonian, despite him getting on their nerves 100% of the time.

"Will little man be allright?" Heavy asked as he brought up the rear.

"Ja, if he vould just pass out already." Medic grumbled, but he got his wish as they reached their floor. Scout had gone completely limp and Medic struggled a bit from the dead weight. His stamina was uncontested, but by the time he had climbed ten flights of stairs with a tiny grown man wrapped in his arms, he was trembling with effort as Demo unlocked his room. Spy didn't look up at first, but then snapped his head up at the amount of people entering his room. "Clear ze table," Medic instructed and Heavy complied, clearing the entire dining table with one sweep of his giant arm. Medic laid Scout down gently, and he was reminded of the day before they had gotten the letter about the vacation, when he had sewn up his shoulder.

"What 'appened?" Spy suddenly appeared by the table, his eyes darting from Scout to the Medic. "Why is zere so much blood?" he took a long drag of his cigarette and blew a tendril of smoke all over where Medic was trying to work.

"Vhat, suddenly developing feelings for your teammates, Spy?" Medic growled, taking a small bag from Sniper who had rushed to their room to get his medical supplies. Spy was a bit taken aback, but he regained his composure almost immediately.

"Are you going to operate on him? Here?" Spy aid disdainfully, gesturing with his cigarette to the unconscious Scout lying on the table. Medic ignored him and began laying instruments on the table.

"As much as I vould like to operate, no. I just need to get zis bleeding stopped before he _dies_." Medic's steel gray eyes met with Spy's muddy blue ones and Spy looked away. "Now vould you be so kind as to remove your smoldering cancer stick from zis environment?" he said without looking up again. Wordlessly, Spy moved to the opposite side of the room and watched from there. Medic selected a roll of gauze and began tearing off chunks of it. "Sniper, help me roll him onto his stomach." Sniper was immediately by Medic's side and they rolled Scout onto his stomach. "Now hold his head up," Medic instructed and Sniper did as he was told. The collected blood in Scout's nose cavity poured out, spreading into a small puddle on the table. Medic felt a miniscule twinge of panic flare in his chest. Spy was right. There _was _a lot of blood.

Medic took Scout's head from Sniper and began stuffing gauze into his nostrils until they became soaked with blood and he removed them, inserting new ones. Scout's nose was desperately swollen and purple already, but he didn't wake as they rolled him onto his back again. All of the mercenaries breathed a little easier as the bleeding stopped, but only Medic was horrible aware of something.

Aware of how incredibly pale the boy was.

He picked up Scout's limp wrist in his hands and barely detected a pulse.

_He curls his hands up like a child when he sleeps… _Medic noticed briefly, the thought flying out of his mind as quickly as it had entered.

"What now?" Spy said when he saw Medic's expression. Medic began digging through his bag until he found what he was looking for, a huge needle and a blood bag. Not the most sterile circumstances, but he gritted him teeth and inserted the needle into the tough flesh around his wrist. He briefly considered the scar tissue might be an issue, but he immediately found a vein and his blood filled the needle, thick and hot. "Docteur?" Spy put his hand on the doctor's shoulder but Medic didn't feel it as he went in with the needle again, drawing more until he had filled the bag. Woozily, he stood up and inserted an IV into Scout's thin arm and held the bag in the air, leaning on a dresser for support.

"Josef!" Heavy booming voice snapped Medic out of his trance and he wildly looked at his team. "Team is speaking to you." He said quieter this time, realizing how badly he had scared the doctor.

"We asked if you were his blood type, mate," Sniper said gently, still in his speedo.

"Vhat? Yes, yes, I'm O negative. Universal," he mumbled and turned his attention back to Scout, whose breathing had become stronger.

"Let's go get you cleaned up, whaddya say, doc?" Sniper offered. "Engie can take 'im back to their room and look ova him. You know Pyro won't let anyfing hurt the boy," Sniper said and began to steer the doctor away from Scout, before Medic noticed Engie's chest. He broke away from Sniper and saw the angry red scratches Scout had gouged in his neck and chest.

"I'll be fine doc. I'll come git ya if I need ya," he said kindly and Medic was dragged to his room. When the door had closed, Engie turned around to face the rest of the team. "I don't care what y'all have to say about that man. He might be a bit strange at times, but that there is a good man. I don't never want to hear y'all disrespect him again."

**Next time on The Mercs Take New York:**

Medic was upright on the couch, gripping the sides so tightly his knuckles were white. He was glistening with sweat and every muscle in his body was tensed, poised to strike.

**Oooh suspense...I can write more than humor, you know! Sadly, I probably won't be updating until after Christmas. Family and stuff takes up time. But until then: Merry Christmas, Happy Hannukah, Happy Kwanza, Happy whatever you celebrate! **

**EVERYONE BE HAPPY**


	8. Demons in my dreams

**Endergirl? What are you doing here? I thought you said you'd update after Christmas!**

**Well, audience, right now instead of being with my family and having a grand old time exchanging gifts and eating lots of food, I'm holed up in my room clutching a bucket to my chest trying not to vomit again. I have fallen horribly ill, just in time for Christmas! Yay! **

**I didn't keep up with the favorites, follows, or reviews this time and I deeply apologize for that. Your constant support is overwhelming and I wish I could just meet all of you and hug you and buy you ice cream...**

**Anyway, here's chapter eight for you all, consider it a meager Christmas present. **

**To Annomynous: DING DING DING YOU GOT IT! Blood has to be cold before it can be used in another person's body, but unfortunately the mercs didn't have that luxury so I fudged it a bit. **

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"We should do somefin' for 'im," Sniper said to Heavy from the bathroom. He was busy shaving with his kukri, moving the blade slowly and steadily up his neck and wiping it off on the towel. Heavy had to look away from him while he was doing this. He kept waiting for the man to slip and slit his throat with the unforgiving blade.

"Like what?" Heavy said as he slipped a comfortable shirt over his head.

"Oi dunno, wot does he like to do? You know him bettah than anyone else here," Sniper said then felt a pang of guilt stab at his stomach. It was simply because in six years none of the other mercs had taken the time to get to know the doctor. Heavy shrugged his massive shoulders.

"He likes to play violin, and sing." Heavy started. Sniper paused, readjusting his grip on the machete. He didn't peg Medic as the singing type. "He will not sing in front of you though, you have to sneak into washroom very early to catch him." Heavy continued. "He loves birds and kittens, but is terrified of bees and lots of people." Sniper almost laughed, picturing the crazy doctor surrounded by fluffy kittens. "He is very curious man, and if he wants to know something he will ask." Heavy's extensive knowledge on Medic only fueled the jokes the rest of the team passed around.

"You two sure do spend a lot of time togetha," Sniper said casually, peering at Heavy from the bathroom mirror.

"Medic likes to talk. Heavy likes to listen." Was the simple, unguarded reply. Sniper kicked himself, quickly changing the subject.

"Wot does he think about the rest of the team?" Sniper finished shaving and rinsed his face off with a splash of cold water from the sink. Heavy thought for a moment.

"He likes you. He thinks you are like him." Heavy said and Sniper flicked off the bathroom light, a puzzled look on his face.

"Loike him, how?"

"He thinks that no one ever got the time to know you, and that is why you do not live in the house. You are alone." Sniper's face reddened.

"Wot about everyone else?"

"He likes the Engineer. Engineer is kind to him and is smart. They have conversations that…" Heavy pondered the English equivalent for a moment. "Way over my head." He smiled slightly. "He does not like Soldier. Soldier is too loud and rude. He has no opinion on Demo, just always is angry about how his skills are wasted on curing his hangovers. He does not say much about Spy or Pyro, just is frustrated because he can't examine them properly. He cares for Scout, but do not ever tell him I told you that." Heavy gave him a stern glare and Sniper held his hands up in innocence.

"I'm just sayin', I think we should do somfin' for 'im," Sniper mused, his eyes resting on the doctor passed out on the couch. When they had escorted him back to the room he had seemed in some sort of stupor, and then collapsed into sleep. He was dead to the world, still in his swim trunks. It had been an eventful first day for everyone and Sniper suddenly realized how tired he was as a yawn quickly overtook him. Medic was in a fitful sleep, twitching and breathing heavily. Sniper removed Medic's glasses from his face and threw a blanket over him. Medic immediately calmed down, sighing deeply and curling into the newfound warmth. Sniper caught himself smiling and he instantly became hot with embarrassment, looking over his shoulder to make sure no one had seen his display of affection.

"Oi really am tired," he growled to himself and gruffly hunkered onto the floor in his make-shift bed. It was the first time he had slept in the same room with people in God knows how long. He thought he should feel a twinge of nervousness, or the familiar feeling of needing to escape…but he was content listening to Heavy's snores and the gentle breathing of the doctor.

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Medic ran behind Scout, sweat pouring down his forehead. He silently cursed and pressed on, following the boy with the beam of the Medi-gun barely hanging onto him.

"Ha ha, you really are gettin' old, doc! You can't keep up wit me!" Scout jeered. Medic knew he should stop this charade before his lungs burst, but not after that insult! He just ran harder, his heartbeat the only sound in his ears.

Scout was just out of reach. Time and time again he tried to snatch the boy's shirt, or grab him by a belt loop, but he just slipped through his gloved fingers.

Scout stopped dead in his tracks and Medic yelped, diving to the side to avoid careening into him.

"Vhy…did you…stop?" Medic panted, struggling to his feet. Scout didn't answer. The boy wasn't even moving, wasn't even breathing. "Scout?" Medic asked tentatively, concern edging his voice.

Scout slowly turned his head to the doctor and Medic's breath caught in his throat, a faint keening noise rising from him.

Scout's eyes were missing.

Gaping black sockets that oozed dark blood had replaced them.

"Scout?" Medic said, his voice small and pathetic.

Scout made an inhuman gurgling noise and with a sickening crack his jaw broke, the skin of his cheeks splitting to make room for the black liquid that was now pouring out of him by the gallon. Medic tried to scramble backwards, but the tidal wave of blackness surrounded him in swirling, stagnant pools. Scout became a husk and fell to the earth limply, his head lolling around at an unnatural angle.

Medic screamed, the black liquid quickly filling his mouth and lungs.

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"_Damonen_!" was the scream that woke Sniper up. "_Damonen in meinen traumen_!" Instantly awake, Sniper groped for his kukri in the dark and wrapped his hands around the hilt. He flicked the lights on with the tip of the blade.

Medic was upright on the couch, gripping the sides so tightly his knuckles were white. He was glistening with sweat and every muscle in his body was tensed, poised to strike.

"Doc?" Sniper said softly. The scream hadn't woken Heavy, who was still snoring. If Medic had heard him, he made no move to respond. He just tightened his grip on the couch as his eyes darted around the room as though he didn't know where he was. Sniper moved towards him slowly, treating him like a wild animal. "Josef, it's allright, yer in the hotel," Sniper continued to talk to him and soon he was beside the couch. He placed a warm hand on Medic's sweaty shoulder and the doctor seemed to relax slightly. "Didja have a noightmare?" Sniper pressed for an answer.

"Scout…" Medic mumbled, barely audible.

"Scout broke 'is nose, remember? They were horsin' around in the pool and he got hurt, but you fixed him right up." Sniper continued speaking very gently.

"I- I haff to check on him, he's hurt. He's hurt very badly," Medic fumbled for his glasses and failed; his hands were shaking much too hard. Medic's usually intelligent eyes were watery and scared as he tried to stand again.

"Awright, let's go make sure he's doin' okay." Sighing, Sniper helped the doctor stand. Medic slid his hand into Sniper's and he instantly tried to pull away, but one look at Medic and he reluctantly held tight to the doctor's sweaty hand. Medic was like a frightened child, following behind Sniper out of the room to the one over. It was awkward and weird, especially for Sniper.

He was used to being a bit afraid of the doctor. The cold, callous doctor who actually cared for his team but would never admit it. Meticulous and proper; never a smear on his glasses or a crooked cowlick. But right now Medic was an entirely different person. Sniper knocked softly on the door and was instantly greeted by Pyro.

"Mrrrrrrrdrrrrk?" Pyro asked, and Sniper tried to imagine a look on concern behind the soulless mask.

"'E's fine, he jus' wants to take a look at the boy." Sniper was aware that Pyro could see they were holding hands, but Pyro made no move to remark or ridicule. He escorted them over to the table where Medic had first laid him, and he was snoring painfully. Someone had cleaned all of the blood off of him and the table, and placed pillows and blankets around him to support his neck. Sniper also noticed a small pink unicorn toy tucked in the crook of his elbow, which he snuggled closer to him in his sleep. Sniper stifled laughter. Scout would _never_ hear the end of that. "See doc? He's foine. Sleepin' like a baby." Sniper led Medic out of the room after he made sure Scout had a pulse. "Thanks, Pyro!"

"Rrrny trrrrrme!" Pyro waved after them. Sniper got Medic back on the couch and tucked him in like a toddler. Medic closed his eyes and fell back asleep immediately.

**Next time on The Mercs Take New York:**

"Loud!" Spy immediately said. "I didn't zink it possible, but some'ow ze boy's voice has managed to get _more annoying._"

**You all should go check out my friend ThisNameIsStupid. She only has a couple of stories up right now but there's a multi-chapter one coming that you'll want to read, trust me. I guess maybe I should address that this story only has twelve chapter total...I don't want it to end. :( **


	9. Horse Tranquilizer

**MURRY CHRITMUH ERRYBODY**

**Through my sick haze, I think I clicked on the Doc Manager...yes, there we are! Another chapter for you!**

**Thank you all so much for the get well wishes, you have no clue how much they meant to me. Anyway, I'm gonna post this and then probably pass out again. Happy Holidays, guys! :)**

**Also...this chapter is a little offensive. I DIDN'T SAY IT, THE MERCS DID. **

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_Was that…singing?_

Sniper cracked his eyes open and groaned. The room was still dark, but the first rays of sunlight were beginning to shine through the window. He struggled to make out the time on the digital clock, the red numbers blurring together with sleep.

5:15

_Who the bloody hell was singing at five in the morning?_

Realization slowly washed over him as he remembered Heavy's words. It was Medic; Medic was singing and Sniper was awake to hear it. He had a feeling like he was back in primary school trying to sneak a peek in the girl's bathroom, and he growled at himself for being so silly.

All the same, he kept very still and listened.

He was singing something in German, but he had a beautiful tenor voice. He wasn't sure if Medic had musical insecurity or he knew the other guys would make fun of him for singing, but it was beautiful. Sniper went as far as thinking that if they weren't part of this god-forsaken war maybe Medic would have had a career in vocals. He was only able to catch the last verse of the upbeat German song before Sniper heard the squeak of knobs as the shower abruptly cut off. Medic came out of the bathroom with a towel wrapped around his waist, running a comb through his hair.

"Guten morgen, Herr Sniper," Medic said formally. For a moment Sniper was shocked the doctor saw he was awake; he thought about playing possum but decided against it and faked a yawn. Maybe he could make Medic think he had just woken up and hadn't heard him singing. Memories from last night flooded Sniper and he watched the doctor carefully from the other side of the room.

All traces of the terrified man last night were replaced by their beloved Medic. A perpetual disapproving frown etched in his face accompanied by his sharp features cut from glass. Sniper didn't even know if Medic remembered what happened. If he did, he made no mention of it.

"Mornin', doc! Sleep awright?" Sniper ventured, forcing cheer into his voice.

"No, actually. I had some troubling dreams." Was all Medic said and Sniper decided against further prodding. Heavy was _still _snoring, clutching two pillows in his massive bear arms. Sniper smiled. The morning was starting off on a good note. As quickly as he had looked over at Heavy and back to Medic, the doctor was changed. White, button down shirt rolled up to his sleeves and a beige vest with all of the buttons done. He was now in the bathroom, grooming himself carefully. He plucked away any stray eyebrow hair and twisted his hair around his finger, creating a slight little curl that was his signature. It was like watching an animal at a zoo, and Sniper just continued to stare as Medic bustled around busily. As quickly as he had dressed and groomed, he was at Heavy's bedside, gently shaking the man awake. Grunting, Heavy rolled over and buried his face in the pillow.

"Vake up, _jetzt_," Medic said sternly and Heavy just buried himself deeper in the covers. Rolling his eyes, Medic decided it wasn't worth his time and he made a sharp turn for the door.

"Whoa, doc, goin' to check on the boy?" Sniper said, jumping to his feet.

"Yes," Medic said slowly, as if trying to detect malicious intent in Sniper's question.

"I'll join ya! Wouldn't mind seein' the little bugger," he added quickly, determined to become friends with the doctor. Medic didn't say anything else as the two men knocked on the door next to theirs. Surprisingly enough, it was Spy who greeted them.

"_Merci dieu_!" he exclaimed, throwing the door open.

"Spy? I thought you vere supposed to be rooming viz Demo and Soldier?" Medic said and Spy stopped in his tracks. He gave the doctor a _you've-got-to-be-kidding-me _stare and fumbled in his suit for a cigarette.

"Spah spent the night in here last night. He couldn't take Demo and Solly's volume like that." Engie said from the other side of the room. _It was strange seeing him without his welding goggles and hardhat, _Sniper mused.

"Anybody gonna check on me? I'm the one who got punched!" A piercing, indignant voice shouted.

"Ve're right here, Scout. Use your inside voice." Medic said calmly, striding over and taking the boy's chin in his hands. "How has he been?" Medic said to the other men in the room while he examined Scout's face.

"Hey, don't talk about me like I'm not 'ere!" he protested, but shut his mouth when Medic glared at him murderously.

"Loud!" Spy immediately said. "I didn't zink it possible, but some'ow ze boy's voice has managed to get _more annoying._"

"Say dat again, fathead! Ya gonna need two masks when I'm done wit you!" Scout lamely countered, straining against Medic's firm hold.

"Gut. He is feeling much better." Medic confirmed and let go of Scout. It was true; his voice was somehow even more obnoxious and nasally than before. "Now, zis should finish ze job," Medic said as he pulled a bottle from his bag of medical supplies. He inserted a large needle in the top and drew out a very familiar red liquid.

"That looks loike," Sniper started but Medic briskly cut him off.

"Ja, it is the rays of ze medi-gun, but in liquid form. I brought a bottle of it because I figured somevone vould nearly kill zemselves. Honestly, I didn't expect it to last zis long." Medic's wrists itched at the very sight of the thick liquid but he staunched the craving, shoving it in the farthest reaches of his mind where much nastier things lurked. Scout reluctantly gave up an arm, and gritted his teeth as Medic slid the impossibly long needle into the same vein the IV had been.

"Geez, doc, didn't you have a smaller needle?" Scout gasped as Medic pushed the plunger, the liquid shooting into his veins.

"Yes," Medic replied, quickly dispelling the medicine and extracting the needle.

"Whoa," Scout breathed as there was a faint glow from the middle of his chest. His heart began thumping painfully against his sternum and he gripped the edges of the table, twitching from the sudden dump of chemicals his brain had produced. Dopamine, endorphin, oxytocin, and adrenaline glided smoothly through his small body.

"Whoa indeed," Medic agreed with him, a smile playing on the doctor's face. "Ze liquid form is much more potent zhan ze 'light' you all are familiar viz."

"Roight, doc, why don't you go and try to wake Heavy up again?" Sniper said, disinterested. He guided him to the door and a confused Medic opened his mouth to protest but Sniper slammed the door in his face. He turned to the others. "Roight," he began, clapping his hands together. "Oi have an idea."

"That's dangerous," Spy said with a smirk on his face.

"Stuff it, spook!" Sniper retorted. "Listen, guys…Oi think we should do somefin for the doc. I mean, 'e takes care of us, he heals us,"

"He experiments on us," Spy commented, his smug demeanor never wavering.

"Spy, we don't die," Sniper snapped, his voice laced with irritation.

"So he plays God." Spy said coolly, never breaking eye contact with the furious Sniper.

"That's enough, Spah," Engie got in between the two men, glaring at both of them. "I think down under might be on to somethin'." He turned his attention to Sniper, who was thankful for the friendly words. "What do you propose we do?"

"Mmph, mmph, mmph!" A muffled noise came from the other side of the room, and Pyro was dancing around with his hand in the air, waiting to be called on.

"Yes, Py?" Engie said.

"Wrrr crrrrld trrrrk hrrrrm trrrr drrrnrrrrr!" Pyro offered, and Scout looked helplessly to Engie.

"What did he say?"

"He said that we should take Medic to dinner." Engie said levelly, gauging the reactions of the men around him. No one immediately jumped to disagree, so he began to speak until Spy scoffed.

"You 'ave got to be kidding me," he said, beginning to pace around the room. "We are going to take an insane German practitioner, a filthy bushman who pees in a jar, an uncharacteristically intelligent hillbilly, a racist warmonger, a communist bear, a drunken wretch, a walking suit, and a _child _to a publicly acceptable establishment." He took another long drag of his cigarette and gazed at the men around him, daring someone to challenge his understandable argument.

"You can't say a thing, frog!" Sniper seethed, stalking up to Spy and poking a dirty finger into his chest, rumpling the expensive Italian fabric. "You backstabbin', lyin', cheatin', COWARD! If it weren't for us, you'd be goose-stepping roight now." Spy, usually calm and void of emotions clamped his teeth around his cigarette. His face darkened and he opened his mouth to retort, but Engie stepped in between them once more.

"Y'all are behavin' like children! Here we are, tryin' to do somethin' nice for the doctor, and all y'all can do is fight. Don't you get tired of this nonstop bickerin'?" Engineer suddenly looked old and tired, his voice more exasperated than it had ever sounded. "Besides, if it weren't for us Texans, we'd all be speakin' _Spanish_!" his eyes glistened and he had a faraway look in them as he whispered, "Remember the Alamo…" Scout, who had been uncharacteristically quiet spoke up.

"Right…" he said, unnerved by Engie. "Well the doc has fixed me up too many times ta count. I think he deserves one nice night before we have to go back to slaughtering BLUs. I mean, last night _coulda_ been nice but _someone _had to go and break my nose," Scout growled and swung his head around to make furious eye contact with the Engineer. Engie sheepishly retreated into himself as he rubbed the back of his neck with a large hand.

"Heh, well I couldn't be beat by a-" Engie clamped his mouth shut so fast his teeth clicked audibly.

"By a what?" Scout raged, kicking himself off of the table.

"By a scrawny street rat," Engie replied. Everyone had some level of shock on their face, whether it was noticeable or not.

It was often debated who the mother of the team was. Some would argue Medic, some would argue Engineer.

Right now, however, Engineer was not acting very motherly. Scout's face was twisted in a comical rage, his cartoonish features an impossible shade of red.

Everyone expected the speedster to quite literally fly across the room in a flurry of bony appendages, but instead, Scout's face fell and his eyes went in opposite directions. He made a low groaning noise that could have been an obscenity, but it was hard to tell. He dropped, his legs suddenly unable to hold him and he revealed a stiff, sour looking man behind him. Medic was holding a small needle that dripped a clear liquid.

"Horse tranquilizer," he said briskly as he nudged the unconscious Scout with the toe of his boot. All the mercs just stood with their jaws open, wondering how he had slipped in unnoticed. Medic just gave them all a small nod and walked back out of the room. Even Spy was impressed.

"Looks loike Medic's a bettah Spy than you've ever been." Sniper grinned evilly at Spy and he simply replied by blowing a cloud of rank smoke in his face.

**Next time on The Mercs Take New York:**

"What about neck snapping?" Soldier asked, making a slight motion with his hands as if he was wringing an imaginary neck.


	10. Tavern on the Green

**Happy Sunday you guys. :) I was really sad posting this chapter because there's only two left...you better enjoy this one because the next one gets really intense. Like, really intense. I'll have to put up a warning for gore. I'll have you know my Christmas sickness is pretty much gone, so I feel better. I won't ramble like I usually do, but I hope you like this chapter.**

**Once again thanks to everyone for how well this story was received...my very first story on here...okay, I'll save the waterworks for the last chapter. Just...enjoy this one. **

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Medic was enjoying himself. He was alone in the hotel room, reading.

There were few things he liked better than quiet and a good book.

Heavy had finally gotten up after Medic had to threaten him with sewing a spare arm on the top of his head. Complaining and sleepy, he stumbled out of the room and Medic hadn't seen him since. Then he had heard a raging argument from the room over, and quickly put a stop to _that_. When working with eight volatile, unpredictable men he usually kept a syringe of some type of sedative up his sleeve. He hadn't heard a peep since then.

When he realized he was alone, he didn't really know what to do with himself. He hadn't physically relaxed for thirty years, and he didn't know if he could relearn. He took off his boots, unbuttoned his vest, and lay back on the bed with a thick book on the history of rhinoplasty.

He didn't realize how long he had been reading until he shifted and winced at the crick in his neck. The clock read 5:00 PM and he did a double take. He felt a swell of anxiety compress his chest, and his breathing was suddenly constricted.

It was _much_ too quiet.

Nobody had bothered him all day, and he had the sinking feeling that something bad had happened. What if Heavy had drowned in the pool? What if Pyro had burned down the top floor of the hotel? What if Demo had blown his legs off and was bleeding out somewhere? What if-

A knock on the door caused Medic's heart to lodge itself in his throat and he shrieked, flinging his book across the room.

"Vone moment, _bitte_, " he said harshly and took his glasses off, rubbing his tired eyes before braving whoever was on the other side of the door.

He almost wished he hadn't opened it.

Sniper had a forced grin on his face and had his hand clamped around a sulking Scout. Medic just looked at the two men and they looked back. They were both in suits, but not the expensive kind that Spy wore. These were rented, three-piece suits that had fraying seams. The men stared at each other for what seemed like an eternity until Sniper shook Scout roughly by the neck, still with his unnatural smile plastered on his face.

"Uh, hey Doc, we were wonderin' if you wanted to go get somethin' to eat," Scout said, vainly fidgeting with his oversized attire. Medic thought about laughing, but for some reason it seemed inappropriate.

"Ah…dinner sounds lovely. I just- vhy are you dressed so nicely?" he finally spat out the words. "Sniper, stop grinning like a fool, you're going to exhaust your facial muscles." He closed his eyes for a moment and his shoulders slumped, as though he couldn't bear the weight of their stupidity anymore.

"Listen, doc, the team wanted to take you out to do somefin' noice, yenno? Because I feel loike we all should try to make this vacation last and not avoid each other loike we do anyway back at the base," Sniper drew a breath and looked like he wanted to say more, but closed his mouth. Scout covered his face with his hands.

"Christ…dis is way too gay for me," he said through his fingers and Medic saw Sniper tense up out of the corner of his eye.

"Scout, Oi thought we talked about this!" Sniper looked as though he was trying to stay calm but he was failing miserably. "You almost died fer real, Scout, and this is the only man who was qualified and _willing_ to bring you back. Only God knows why 'e did, though," Medic was mostly confused, but maybe, _maybe_, somewhere deep down in the abyss of his soul…he was touched. He even smiled, a weak attempt at showing his appreciation. Holding up a hand, Medic stopped the arbitrary bickering.

"I'm touched, truly, I am. Let me get my things und I'll meet you outside, ja?" Medic closed the door on the two men who were still trying to rip each other's throats out.

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"Holy crap," Scout gaped as they stepped out of the van.

_Holy crap is right… _Medic thought as he joined the rest of the team outside. Sniper had called Ms. Pauling and asked if she knew where the fanciest restaurant in NYC was. It was called Tavern on the Green.

For once, the mercs actually looked like respectable members of society. They were all very sharp in their rented suits; even Pyro had a bowtie on around his masked neck. It had been nearly impossible to find a suit to fit Heavy, and they ended up having to go to a specialty Big & Tall store. Before they left, Spy had sat down Soldier and Scout and drilled the rules into their skulls.

"No swearing, no throwing food, no weapons, and no Red Sox memorabilia," Spy growled at the men. Scout opened his mouth to protest but Spy shut it with a look that could have flattened an infantry.

"What about neck snapping?" Soldier asked, making a slight motion with his hands as if he was wringing an imaginary neck.

"No neck snapping of any sort." Spy warned him.

"Can I add to my ear collection?" Soldier asked hopefully, looking at Spy expectantly.

"No."

Soldier thought long and hard with his lips pursed.

"What if they're dead already? Can I-" Spy lost his composure and flipped Soldier's helmet up so he was looking into his eyes.

"No neck snapping, no ear collections, no racism, no missiles, no speeches, no Sun Tzu, and NO SEVERED HEADS!" Spy snapped and Soldier tightened his jaw, ready to yell right back, but Heavy got in between them and that was the end of that.

But as they stood in front of this restaurant, nobody had any words. It was the nicest place any of them had ever been in their lives. Except Spy, maybe. They just stood and took into their surroundings, then looked at one another and decided it was now or never. They walked together, still in one body and one mind, and entered the restaurant. The maitre'd smiled politely as they walked in, but his smiled faltered when he saw Pyro and Spy. Confusion and uncertainty crossed the young man's face and he turned to a nearby security guard. Demo, seeing the situation hurried up to the man and caught him by the arm.

"Aye, lad, how are ye t'night?" he said, his smile doing nothing to put the man at ease.

"Ah, I'm fine sir, just- the man in the ski mask, and th-the other one," he started and Demo clucked his tongue sorrowfully.

"'Tis a shame, lad. T'were both in a horrible demolitions accident. They're very self-conscious aboot it," Demo whispered and the man's eyes flickered over to Spy who was making a show of pulling uncomfortably on his balaclava.

"I'm so sorry," the man breathed and his eyebrows knit together with shame and embarrassment. "Is that what happened to your eye?" In this moment, Demo could have taken home an Oscar. His single eye twinkled wistfully and he looked into the distance.

"Aye," he said, his voice cracking. While the maitre'd looked like he was about to cry with Demo, the rest of the mercs were having trouble stifling their laughter. Demo was so _full of it_.

"I-I'm so sorry, I-I'll seat you all right away." He waved down a waitress and she hurried over, looking a bit flustered. "Seat these guys immediately," he told her and he turned to the men and smiled.

"Good evening, guys! If you'd just follow me," the cute blonde smiled at this odd group and the mercs followed her through the beautiful restaurant.

They were all comfortable and had ordered drinks, joking amongst themselves. Spy was busy trying to explain to Scout what everything was on the menu, Demo was knocking back a three-hundred dollar bottle of wine, Pyro was entranced by the single candle on the table, and everyone else was just admiring the scenery and each other's company.

It was nice.

"I'm _hot_, can I take dis thing off?" Scout complained, shrugging at his suit jacket.

"Oi guess so, if ya just can't stand it." Sniper sighed, nodding at him. Scout had a look of gratitude on his face as he pulled off the thick fabric…but Medic noticed something else. Beneath the almost forced gratitude, there was some emotion lingering…something playing on the edges of his lips…

Scout was smirking.

Almost in slow-motion, the boy had taken off his suit jacket and revealed a faded navy blue shirt with a familiar red "B" on it.

Scout was now sitting in the middle of the fanciest restaurant in _New York City _wearing a _Boston Red Sox_ shirt. The air was sucked out of the room. A fork clattered to a plate, and Spy was currently glaring at the boy with such vehemence you could almost feel the fire from his gaze. Scout grinned, cockily casting his gaze over the restaurant. He leaned back casually and put his hands behind his head.

"What's wrong?" he said innocently.

**Next time on The Mercs Take New York:**

Scout lost it.


	11. Jailed

**Guys...there's only one chapter left. I just love you all so much I never want this story to end...*sigh*.**

*****WARNING*****

**This chapter has very brief, but very intense Rick Grimes inspired gore. I don't even know what to put in these Author's notes anymore besides a million thank-yous. Love you guys! **

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In an instant Spy had thrust out his gloved hand and grabbed Scout by the ear, twisting it painfully as he stood up and the boy was forced to stand up with him.

"OW OW OW OW OW OKAY SPY I'M SORRY!" Scout was screeching as every head turned to look at the scene that was unfolding. None of the other mercs made a move to help Spy or help Scout, and they all sat there dumbly. Spy hauled the boy out of the restaurant by the ear and just like that, it was quiet once more. Sniper's hands were covering his face and he was shaking his head.

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"Let go of me, Frenchie!" Scout whined, but Spy just gripped him tighter and Scout cried out in pain again, shameful tears rolling down his face. He clumsily tried to wipe them away like a child but he could barely keep up with the livid Spy.

"What is ze matter with you?" Spy shouted at Scout when he had dragged him a good two blocks away. Spy's accent had thickened considerably, as it did when he was experiencing an overflow of any emotion. Scout stared at his feet, rubbing his ear with one hand. "Use your words, boy!" Spy cuffed him on the side of the head and Scout snapped his head up angrily.

"You guys are always pickin' on me an' makin' fun o' me!" he yelled indignantly. Spy snorted.

"Is zat some kind of excuse for directly disobeying me?" Spy groped in his suit pocket for a cigarette.

"_You're not the boss of me, Spy_!" Scout shouted right in Spy's face and slapped his disguise kit right out of his hand and it slid across the sidewalk. "Y-You're not my boss, you're not my teacher, you're not my God, and ya not my father!" Scout was visibly puffed up as his rage spilled out of him, his hands clenched so tightly the knuckles were white.

"Despite popular accusations," Spy said coolly.

Scout lost it.

He grabbed Spy by his expensive lapels and forced him to the ground, his face slamming painfully on the concrete. Fueled by white-hot fury, Scout yanked the larger man up and prepared to drive his face into the ground again when a voice spoke from the shadows.

"Whadda we have here, boys?" an unknown voice that belonged to an unknown man stepped into the dim street light. "Looks like we caught ourselves a frog and a rat on the wrong side of town."

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"Just one noice noight…just one…" Medic could hear Sniper mumbling; utterly defeated. He was about to reassure him, even went as far as drawing a breath to speak, but the words died on his lips.

Medic felt a slight, uncomfortable twinge in his stomach.

It was a feeling he was all too familiar with, and the team suddenly became aware of how still the doctor had become. They assumed it was because of the scene that Scout had just caused.

"It is allright, doktor," Heavy started, but Medic shushed him violently with a firm shake of his head.

He felt it again.

Someone was calling for him.

He stood up so quickly he nearly fell over, sprinting out of the restaurant faster than Scout hopped up on Bonk!. Flinging open the heavy doors, he looked wildly for the source of the feeling.

"Medic!" he finally heard it and his head swiveled around to see quite a gruesome scene. There was an unknown man staggering around with a butterfly knife buried impossibly deep in his shoulder. Another man was busy laying on his side and coughing up handfuls of blood and phlegm. A third man was unconscious or dead on the ground, an ominous pool of blood seeping from his skull. But then there were two familiars faces caught up with three other men; a very broken and bloody Spy and Scout.

Medic was unaware of the rest of the team who had burst out of the restaurant in pursuit of the doctor, and unaware of the maitre'd who had promptly called the police.

Snarling and foaming at the mouth like a wild dog, Medic charged one of the men who was currently and repeatedly kicking Scout in the ribs. He grabbed the man by the back of his shirt and threw him against a wall with such force his head snapped back and he fell to the ground; unconscious. Medic whipped around to face the other men who were now staring at him with wide, uncertain eyes. Medic narrowed his own and bared his teeth, throwing an expert punch that felled one of the men like a tree. The other had the good sense in him to run, and Medic prepared to chase after him when he heard Demo behind him shout:

"Doc! We've got trouble!"

Medic hadn't noticed the multiple NYPD cars that had surrounded him. The flashing blue lights blinded him and the sirens deafened him. He was hardly aware of the commands an officer was barking at him. He didn't notice when six other bodies surrounded him and were now fighting tooth and claw to protect the doctor. Medic was numb to the hand that grabbed him by the arm and pulled him out of the protective circle of his teammates.

However, he _was_ aware of the police baton that had recently connected with his temple.

Medic's world exploded into brilliant white stars as he felt himself collapse onto the concrete. Rough, unidentifiable hands grabbed him from all sides and dragged the doctor silently into the darkness.

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Carl Richter was a middle-aged, slightly chubby police officer who had a thick black mustache. He was an average guy with a wife and two grown children, and it had been unusually quiet in the department lately.

He wished it had stayed quiet.

That night, however, he had to help drag in nine unconscious, bloody men into the holding cell they had in the office.

He was wondering if he had been cut out for this after all.

"Dear sweet Lord!" he exclaimed, wincing as he stood, a hand clamped on his back. He let the arm of the man he was dragging drop heavily onto the ground and he handcuffed him, having to extend the cuffs to the largest setting. How did he get stuck with the guy who's one arm probably equaled his body weight? Why couldn't he have had the skinny kid that Trevor had slung over his shoulder? Apparently, these men were a big deal, and Carl found himself tense, expecting one of them to suddenly wake up. It had taken five officers and three bullet wounds to take down the giant he had recently dragged into the cell.

"Geez," he heard Trevor mutter behind him as he was rifling through the pockets of the one guy in the ski mask. He held up a butterfly knife, a revolver, and some kind of fancy device that had been stuffed with cigarettes. "These guys were loaded."

"This is the one that took out Mark, Shelley, Michael, _and_ Jared," a third officer grunted as he dragged a large man into the cell. He was the most broken and bloody out of the nine men, and in his unconsciousness a terrifying snarl was frozen on his face. Despite everything this one had been through, a pair of small round spectacles somehow remained on his face.

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"Got anything yet?" Carl leaned on Trevor's desk, worrying a cigar in his mouth. They had made countless calls, been through every single file, and contacted every database within their immediate vicinity for the past four hours.

It was like these guys had fallen from the sky.

Most of them were awake now; one of the burlier ones kept shouting through the bars about his right as an American and how they couldn't keep him there, blah, blah, blah. The one with glasses was the first to wake, and even though he was in cuffs he took a trip around the cell and checked everyone's pulse and listened to their breathing. It would have been endearing in any other circumstance. Carl was about to have to call it a night when one of the newer guys suddenly stood up and shouted,

"I've got something!" All of the other officers surrounded him and began to pick apart the unmarked file. They all sat dumfounded as they read through the slim folder. There were very few papers in it, but the papers had criminal records of some of the men. Carl just shook his head in disbelief as he read the files over and over.

"AWOL Soldiers…Russian mafia…hired assassins…hit man…" he averted his eyes from the last file, refusing to read it again. "…concentration camps…" he bitterly muttered and tossed the folder onto the desk with more force than he meant to. "What I want to know is why nine hired mercenaries are roaming the streets of New York!" he shouted at the rest of the officers who shrugged their shoulders in response.

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Jail was nothing new to the mercs.

Nearly every single one of them had been in jail for some period of time, even Scout. They all sat in what someone on the outside would assume was a defeated circle, but in actuality they were planning their jailbreak, of course.

"Then Scout, you'll distract the guards at the front an'-" Engineer was interrupted by the sound of a key turning in a lock. The team looked up and saw a single guard who was entering. Medic was the only one who didn't look up. He was huddled in a corner, staring at the wall. Every single muscle in his body was screaming in pain; even breathing was difficult. One of his eyes was desperately swollen, and he absently poked a tongue into a hole in his mouth that had previously housed a tooth. He only looked up when he saw him team members being escorted out of the cell.

"Up you go," the guard with a thick black mustache growled at him and tried to help Medic stand, but Medic went limp and became stubborn dead weight. Struggling, the guard got him to his feet and Medic still stubbornly stood, easily overpowering the shorter, pudgy guard.

Medic gasped in pain as a police baton connected with his ankle and tears sprung into his eyes.

"Move it, ya filthy Nazi!" the guard shouted at him.

"…"

The rest of the mercs stopped in their own tracks at the word that had just bounced off the walls of the police department.

Their hearts stilled in beating, and even Soldier had a look of horror on his face.

The team had learned the hard way what the doctor's trigger was.

His sanity was questionable at best, but when someone uttered that one, foul word…

Medic stood slowly, not turning to face the officer.

_Nazi. Nazi. Nazi_.

_Their pleading faces. Their diseased flesh. Their screams._

_Dear God, their screams._

With cold, calculated movements that seemed to belong to a machine rather than a human being, Medic turned to face the officer.

In one crystalline moment, Medic lunged forward and sunk his teeth into the side of the officer's neck.

The room exploded into action.

Scout ripped his way out of a police officer's grip and ran up the wall, back flipping and snapping out a leg, catching the officer in the side of the skull. Pyro pulled his fire axe from seemingly nowhere and was now strangling the officer that had been holding him. Demo and Solly joined hands and clotheslined a line of people who were rushing to help their friend. Sniper and Spy were back to back, fighting hand in hand; Spy with expert chops and elegant punches, and Sniper with his fingers currently shoved in a screaming officer's eyes. Engineer grabbed a stapler off the desk and brained a female officer who pulled a gun.

Medic was numb. He just stared into the dying eyes of the officer with the greasy black mustache. The officer had slumped slowly to the ground, blood literally spurting out of the gaping wound in his neck. He gurgled a response, more blood trickling out of the side of his mouth. He touched his neck and looked at his hands as though he had never seen blood before. His chest gave a slight heave and then his eyes fluttered close for the last time. His hands were frozen in the cruel talons of death, reaching out for something he would never touch.

Heavy shoved everyone out of the way effortlessly and grabbed the doctor by the waist and picked him up, cradling him as the team burst out of the police department and bolted down the street. Medic allowed himself to be carried, balling up Heavy's shirt in his hands like a toddler and clinging onto him as though his life depended on it.

Medic began to cry.

**Next time on The Mercs Take New York:**

"Is nobody gonna talk about this? Really?" Scout broke the silence, not being able to stand it anymore. To his credit, it was the longest he had been quiet in his life.

I **really hope you guys liked this chapter, I have mixed feelings about it. I just don't think I'm very good at writing dramatic moments, but whatever. I hope everyone has a happy Tuesday. :)**


	12. The End?

**Well, here we go. Long, sappy author's note inbound. **

**I don't even know what to say. This has been an amazing journey and the only people I have to thank is you guys. For real though, I never EVER expected this fic to become as popular as it did, I'm just a weirdo teenage girl who sits up all night writing stories about fictional video game characters. **

**I want to thank Annomynous, who was the first person to review and had stuck with me through every single chapter. I want to thank ThisNameIsStupid for becoming my first internet best friend. I want to thank Giselle for being so incredibly excited for every new chapter...I want to thank everyone who supported me through this story. Every favorite, every follow, every review...**

**I have a few one-shots lines up to post, but I won't have anything multi-chapter for awhile. I do have something in the fanfiction oven though, so don't you worry. You might not see me, but I'll be on the sight every single day, supporting you guys and continuing to profusely thank-you. Never hesitate to PM me is you have a question or just want to talk. **

**I hope everyone gets the ending...**

**Thanks, you guys.**

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Most of the mercs weren't built for speed. They were all pretty fast compared to the average guy, but people like Engineer and Heavy just weren't made for it. Heavy's massive upper body and Engie's short legs were a few reasons as to why they were considered defense classes.

Right this moment, however, all of the mercs were nipping at Scout's heels.

And he was _booking_ it.

Spy had taken command of the ragtag group, ordering Scout, Sniper, and Soldier upstairs to quickly grab everyone's luggage. Engineer had been sent in to check everyone out of their rooms. Yes, they were trying to flee a state as convicts, but Spy wasn't adding a stolen hotel room to his conscience. Spy was mentally filling in another spot on the map in his room where he was banned from. Heavy loaded the rest of the team in the van, still clutching a catatonic Medic in his arms.

That had been three hundred miles ago, and Sniper hadn't taken his foot off of the gas pedal since.

They had paused only when they were back in Ohio, and Spy used the payphone to call Ms. Pauling. To say she had been livid was a gross understatement. She was almost as mad as the time when Scout pressed the briefcase alarm just to get a date with her.

"_Are you kidding me, Spy?_" she screeched through the phone and Spy pulled it away from his ear, closing his eyes in irritation. "I mean, we try to do something nice for you guys for once, and you get banished from New York City! And Scout…don't even get me started on _him."_ Spy pinched the bridge of his nose in exasperation, but Ms. Pauling couldn't see this gesture.

"To be fair, Ms. Pauling, you _did_ send nine shell-shocked, war-hardened, trained killers with questionable sanity into the most populated, unforgiving state in America." Spy's words fell on deaf ears. He cringed, realizing he'd tried to reason with an angry woman.

"Just get back here safe." She said, the statement lacking all forms of emotion. Spy hung up the phone, suddenly exhausted.

The sight in the van was a sad one. Everyone was still beaten up and bloody either from the run-in with the gang or the run in with the police. Medic had calmed down, but only in the last few hours. Medic was leaning on Heavy as if he wasn't able to sit up on his own. Maybe he couldn't. He was the most beaten of all of them, his face bloodied beyond recognition, his one not-blackened eye was red from crying. And there was the blood of that police officer that drenched the front of his clothes and stained his lips. Sniper turned on the radio to break the silence.

_"…__middle-aged man with black hair and glasses is the only description we have. If you know this man or have seen him please contact your local police station. The man he killed was a NY officer named Carl Richter, he…"_

Sniper turned off the radio as quickly as he had turned it on.

The silence continued.

"Is nobody gonna talk about this? Really?" Scout broke the silence, not being able to stand it anymore. To his credit, it was the longest he had been quiet in his life.

"There's nothing to talk about, son," Engie said firmly.

"No, no, I think there is," Scout stubbornly pressed the subject.

"No, there's _not. _If Medic hadn't done what he did, we probably never would've gotten out of there. He's not a bad man," Engie insisted, speaking about the doctor as though he wasn't in the room. To be fair, Medic _wasn't_ in the room. He was somewhere very far away in the blackness of his mind.

"_What?" _Scout was incredulous, looking genuinely hurt. "A bad man? Are you kiddin'? I was gonna talk about how that was _the coolest thing I had ever seen in my entire life_." Scout breathed out the compliment like it was the best thing he could say to someone.

"Stop," Engie warned him, his usually friendly face darkening slightly.

"Hardhat, I ain't sayin' anything bad! I'm being completely serious. I thought I had seen almost every way a person could die, but doc was all scary- I mean, ya already scary- but," Scout trailed off when he met Engie's eyes. He looked down, afraid of the toymaker's wrath.

"Sorry fer ruinin' yer vacation, doc," Sniper said, peering at the disheveled practitioner in the rearview mirror.

"Ruined?" Medic said quietly, drawing his eyes away from the window. "Zhat vas ze most fun I've had in thirty years," he grinned, his bloodstained teeth glinting in the midday sun.

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**** EPILOUGE ****

"What're ye on aboot, boy?" Demo said, wincing at Scout's loudness. Medic trudged downstairs, still in his pajamas. It was _much _too early to deal with Scout.

It had been a week since the awful few days in New York. Ms. Pauling had been giving them the silent treatment and that had been fine with them. Nobody wanted to face her anger.

"I'm tellin' ya, it'll work, it's the perfect place for guys like us!" Medic heard Scout as he entered the common room. It was the earliest he had seen the boy awake, and Scout was bouncing around like a puppy. "Danny told me,"

"Yer brother? Are ya talkin' ta him again?" Sniper said from the sink as he rinsed his coffee mug out.

"Yeah, yeah, he's cool again. Anyways, it's out in the middle of scenic nowhere, and you can be as drunk," his gaze flickered to Demo, "And as high," his gaze unconsciously flickered to Sniper "As you want! All the time! Only problem is, it's in New York."

"We can't go back there, boy! I'm having trouble keeping up with the states I've been banned from in my head already," Soldier growled from the table.

"You get ta kill all the hippies you want!" Scout kept encouraging the subject. That shut Soldier up.

"Vell _vhat _is it called?" Medic said impatiently, drumming his fingers on the counter. Scout paused for dramatic effect.

"Woodstock!"


End file.
